Jason stood in the center of the arena and watched Austin's back until the older fighter disappeared completely into the thinning crowd. Only then did he become aware of the hundreds of eyes still fixed on him. The square had not yet emptied; people lingered, voices rising in overlapping waves of commentary.
"I can't believe he actually won the tournament like that."
"What did you expect? He was already half-broken. Fighting Austin in that condition would have been suicide—and Austin wouldn't have been satisfied with an easy win either."
"Still feels incomplete. We came for a final, not a forfeit."
Most of the remarks carried a mixture of surprise and reluctant acceptance. One group, however, said nothing at all. Andrew sat rigid in his chair, jaw locked, while Dennis and the others stood close by in careful silence. The air around them felt brittle; no one wanted to be the first to speak and draw their leader's attention the wrong way.
After a long, heavy pause Andrew finally turned his head toward Dennis. The anger in his eyes was cold and focused.
"He won. After everything we arranged, he still won. And what is wrong with that brother of yours? I thought he was a brute who never thought twice before breaking someone."
Dennis kept his voice low. "Sometimes even I don't understand how he thinks. That's why I never fully agreed when you decided to use him for revenge."
"You could have made the risk clearer."
"I tried. You didn't give me room to explain."
Andrew's fingers flexed once against the broken arm of the chair. "Fine. That's finished. What matters now is making his life miserable once he starts working for the family."
One of the other boys spoke up carefully. "Before we plan anything, we need to know what job he actually gets."
Andrew's mouth twisted. "I overheard my father and Elder Jim once. The winner of this tournament is assigned to the alchemy room. You know what that means."
Dennis's expression tightened as the implication landed. "He'll be under the grand elder."
"Exactly." Andrew's fist clenched. "The grand elder doesn't tolerate interference in his domain. Causing trouble for someone working there will be difficult."
Dennis's eyes lit with a darker idea. "Not impossible. We still need pills for training. When we go to collect them we can create opportunities. Accidents. Missing ingredients. Maybe even frame him for theft."
Andrew's anger shifted into something sharper and more satisfied. "You're right. While we're there for legitimate reasons we can set him up. Frame him for stealing. That would finish him cleanly." He stood, already turning away. "We'll talk details later. First we check on Michael."
The group followed him out of the square without another word.
Around them the rest of the audience began to disperse, many still muttering about the anticlimactic final. The platform emptied. Jason remained where he was, lowered himself carefully into a cross-legged position, and closed his eyes. The rejuvenating pill the elder had given him earlier was still working through his system; he circulated Heaven's Law in slow, steady cycles to help it along. His ribs ached with every breath, and the deeper bruises from Larry's assault pulsed in time with his heartbeat, but the worst of the damage was already knitting.
He had not been circulating long when the officiating elder approached again.
"You have one week to recover," the elder said. "After that you will present yourself at the alchemy room and begin work as an errand boy under the grand elder."
Jason's eyes opened. Frustration flared hot and immediate. One week was not enough—not if he wanted to be anywhere near full strength when he faced Austin. Two weeks would have been closer to realistic. He muttered under his breath about the unfairness of the timeline, still too focused on the internal calculation of recovery to notice the soft footsteps that had stopped directly behind him.
"Looks like someone is unhappy."
The voice was old, dry, and faintly amused. Jason startled hard, twisting around and nearly losing his balance. An elderly man in plain but high-quality robes stood a few paces away, hands folded behind his back, watching him with bright, assessing eyes.
"Who are you, old man?" Jason demanded before he could stop himself. "And why are you sneaking up on me?"
The elder's lip twitched. "What a foul mouth. Is that how you intend to speak to the person you'll be working for?"
Jason's brain caught up a half-second too late. Color drained from his face. He scrambled into a proper bow, fists cupped in front of him.
"Grand Elder—!"
The grand elder studied the sudden display of respect and gave a small nod of approval. The approval lasted only until Jason, still half-panicked and trying to recover, opened his mouth again.
"Who would have thought the grand elder would turn out to be an old geezer with one foot already in the grave?"
The words hung in the air. Jason's eyes widened in pure horror as he realized what he had just said.
The grand elder's expression flattened. "I still have many years ahead of me, young man—unless you plan on trying to shorten them, which I do not recommend."
Jason's face went through several rapid colors. "That—that isn't what I meant, Grand Elder! I was only praising how strong and mighty you still are at your age!"
"I may be old," the grand elder said mildly, "but my hearing is excellent."
Jason began to shake. He opened his mouth to plead, but the grand elder raised one hand and continued before any apology could form.
"I heard Elder Luke tell you to report in one week. I am overriding that. Looking at the state of you, you are no different from a beaten pig. I need someone who can actually move when they arrive. You have three weeks to recover."
Jason's knees nearly gave out with relief. Being compared to a beaten pig was a small price to pay for the extra time. He bowed again, deeper this time.
"Yes, Grand Elder."
The old man had already turned and taken several steps away when he paused without looking back.
"As for your punishment for the earlier remarks… we will discuss that when you present yourself at the alchemy room."
Jason remained in the bow until the grand elder's figure disappeared among the last of the departing crowd. Only then did he straighten, exhale a long, shaky breath, and lower himself back onto the packed earth. Three weeks. It was more than he had expected, and still somehow not quite enough—not with Austin's promise waiting at the end of them and a new, unspecified punishment hanging over his head.
He closed his eyes again and returned to the slow work of healing, the bracelet silent for once, the square emptying around him as the tournament day finally ended.